


With This Ring

by DoctorTrekLock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bunker Fic, Cursed Object, Gimmel Rings, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Pre-Slash, love spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28931172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: While Sam recovers from his attempt to close Hell, he and Charlie decide it’s time to catalog the bunker’s artifact collection. Things go smoothly until Dean and Cas accidentally disturb a set of medieval gimmel rings.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71
Collections: Dean/Cas Tropefest 2021 Mid-Winter 5k





	With This Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to ImprobableDreams900 for the beta! She is invaluable as I attempt to smooth out characterizations while my eyes cross. Thank you, dear!
> 
> Thank you also to the DCTFMW5K organizers, without whom this would never have been written. And most certainly would not have been finished.

Dean set the sturdy wooden box down on the war room table with a thump. “Just two more,” he groaned, rubbing his lower back. He was getting too old for this sort of thing. When Sam looked his way with something approaching concern, Dean quickly dropped his hand.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “This should be fine for now. There’s plenty here to go through already.”

Dean waved him off. “It’ll all need to come up here sooner or later. Might as well be now.”

Sam nodded and straightened the blanket tucked around his shoulders. It was honestly a miracle that he was here right now, much less upright and moving. The aborted trials to close Hell had done a number on his brother, but Dean was just happy the kid was still alive.

Footsteps behind him heralded the arrival of the penultimate box, and Dean shifted to the side to give Cas space to set his burden down.

“That box was unnecessarily heavy,” Cas complained.

Dean snorted a laugh and had to stop himself at the last moment from clapping Cas on the shoulder. Sam gave him a half-frown at the interrupted gesture, but Dean was _not_ going to talk to his brother about Cas, thank you very much.

“I’m gonna go get the last box,” he said quickly. “Cas and Charlie should be able to help you up here.”

Dean didn’t _exactly_ turn tail and flee, but Sam would probably disagree with him on that.

Behind him, he could hear Cas’s puzzled question and knew what Sam’s response would be. No, Dean wasn’t going to be here to help with the artifact cataloging project because there was a ghoul in Cedar Rapids that wasn’t going to decapitate itself, and, no, Dean wasn’t planning on taking anyone with him.

He had a pretty good idea what Cas’s response would be to that, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear footsteps behind him as he neared one of the storage rooms.

Cas caught his arm just as he crossed the threshold. “Dean. What do you think you’re doing?”

Dean pulled himself free. “I’m getting the last box, Cas,” he said, willfully misunderstanding the fallen angel. “What are you doing?”

A low growl of frustration burst from Cas’s throat before he stepped closer, boxing Dean in against a set of half-empty shelves. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Sam told me. The ghoul in Cedar Rapids? You shouldn’t be hunting alone.”

Dean roughly pushed past Cas. “It’s just a ghoul,” he snapped. “Day or two tops, no big deal. I can do the hunt in my sleep.”

“You shouldn’t—”

“Damnit, Cas!” Dean rounded on him. “I’m doing what I’ve always done — save people. A kid got eaten last week, for—”

“Not alone!” Cas exclaimed. “Never alone, Dean. Not when there are people to watch your back.”

“I’m fine,” Dean snapped, advancing on him until Cas was the one backed into the shelves. He must have brushed the contents, because Dean heard a tinny sound as something fell and hit the concrete floor. “Stay here and watch Sam’s back. Watch Charlie’s. They need it. Not me; I’m fine. I’m always _fine_.”

“But what if you’re not!” Cas retorted hotly. “Take someone with you. Take me.”

“I need to be away from you,” Dean said without thinking.

Hurt flashed across Cas’s face, followed by another, deeper emotion that Dean couldn’t identify. “Of course,” he said coolly, all the fight falling out of him. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

Between one heartbeat and the next, Cas slipped away.

Dean swore loudly. “Dammit!” That wasn’t what he’d meant to say. While it was true that he desperately needed a few days of normalcy to catch his breath, that didn’t mean he wanted Cas gone. It was more that Dean needed a couple days to get his head screwed back on straight (pun not intended).

Cas was suddenly here, in the bunker, _human_. He slept and he ate and he scowled when his socks got wet and Dean was having a very difficult time not grabbing his best friend and kissing him like he’d wanted to for years. As enticing as Cas usually was, this approachable, touchable version was nigh irresistible.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit, _fuck_!” he swore, and only barely managed to keep from kicking the box he’d been sent to retrieve.

\--

By the time he brought the last box up to the war room, Cas was nowhere to be seen.

Sam had pulled one of the previous boxes closer to his chair and was diligently working his way through it, his laptop open on the table next to him along with one of the Men of Letters’ ancient ledger books.

“Do you know where he is?” Dean asked, not bothering to clarify who he meant. He had spent enough time cursing himself in the basement for most of his anger to drain away, leaving him tired and guilty.

Sam glanced up quickly before looking down. The tips of his ears went red. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. He said something about, um, researching in his, ah, room.” The flush spread across his cheeks and Dean frowned.

“You feeling all right, Sammy?” He started around the table. “When was the last time you drank some water?” He reached out to feel Sam’s forehead, but his brother dodged away.

“I’m fine,” Sam said hastily. “Just, you know, a little warm in here.”

Dean could feel his frown deepen in concern. “This is an underground bunker. It’s always chilly in here, and you constantly complain about having to wrap yourself up in layers to keep warm.”

“Yeah, well.” Sam’s eyes darted to the side.

“That’s it,” Dean decided. “You’re done for the day. Save your spreadsheet or whatever and if you promise to take a nap now, I’ll let you have dinner in the kitchen.”

Sam huffed under his breath but did as he was told. His fingers shook ever so slightly on the keys and he refused to meet Dean’s eyes. When Dean reached out to help him up, Sam actually shied away from his touch.

“Easy, man,” Dean said, holding his hands up. “Just me. C’mon.”

With some coaxing, he was able to get Sam to his feet. He didn’t touch him, but Dean kept his hands up as a guard just in case as he followed behind Sam’s shuffling form all the way back to his room.

“Thank you,” Sam said shortly, shutting the door in Dean’s face.

Dean blinked in confusion. What had gotten into Sam? Was it some sort of lingering effect of the trials? There hadn’t been any other relapses like this so far. “You’re welcome,” he called through the door, making sure to dredge up all the big-brother annoyance he could muster. He’d keep a close eye on Sam that evening and make sure he was okay.

Now that Sam was as safe as Dean could make him for the moment, he had nothing left to distract him from the gnawing guilt in his gut. He knew he had to talk to Cas. Regardless of any thoughts about kisses that may or may not have crossed his mind, he couldn’t stand the thought that Cas might actually believe Dean didn’t want anything to do with him. Remembering the hurt on Cas’s face felt like he’d just been stabbed.

Dean started toward Cas’s door, and then paused and made a beeline for his own. Where were…ah. There they were. Perfect. Just the peace offering he was looking for.

He knocked on Cas’s door. “Cas?” he asked. “It’s me.” He strained his ears but didn’t hear anything from the other side of the door. “Can we talk?”

He heard a faint shuffling from inside the room, and then the door swung open. Cas didn’t look angry anymore, but he wasn’t smiling. “What would you like to say?”

Dean glanced behind Cas into the room. It looked like he’d been working on the bed, Sam’s old laptop open and a few books from the bunker’s library splayed out across the blankets. “Can I come in?” He held up the sheaf of papers in his hand like an excuse.

Cas gave a half-nod and moved to the side to let Dean in. He closed the door behind him and then leaned against it, blocking the exit.

“I, uh…” Dean trailed off. “Here.” He shoved the papers in Cas’s direction. The fallen angel took them, but he didn’t look away from Dean. “That’s everything I know about the Cedar Rapids case,” he explained, shoving one hand in his pocket and gesturing with the other. “It’s all in there; newspaper articles about the kid, police reports, autopsy…the works.”

A line appeared between Cas’s eyebrows as he looked down and starting shuffling through the papers Dean had handed him. “Why did you give this to me?”

Dean blew his breath out in a huff. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to explain this part. Winchesters were good at starting fights, but Sammy was the one who was good at talking through the aftermath. Dean was more likely to make up favorite dishes for dinner than to give heartfelt apologies.

“You were right,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t be going alone when I don’t have to. You up for a trip to Iowa with me?”

Cas studied Dean for a moment, and Dean was reminded of the first few years they had known each other, when Castiel didn’t know the meaning of personal space and lengthy staring contests were more the rule than the exception. Those moments inevitably led to Dean getting a little hot under the collar, so he averted his eyes. The point was to _keep_ from kissing Cas, not _encourage_ the idea.

His gaze fell on the laptop and books open on the bed. “Unless you’re working on something else?” he tacked on hastily. “I mean, it’s cool if you are; I can cover it alone, it’s just a ghoul. Or I can call Jody, see if she has a moment to swing south—”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted. “Of course I’ll come with you. My research can wait.”

“Are you sure?” The question came out more tentative than Dean had intended and he silently cursed himself. Cas had agreed to work the case with him, so they were good now, right? He just needed to extract himself from the conversation before he could do any more damage.

“Certainly.” Cas crossed to the bed and started stacking up the books there. “In any case, I haven’t found anything related to the fallen angels yet in either the library or online.”

“Oh.” Dean’s heart sank. He knew Cas took the angels’ falling personally and blamed himself for it…probably with pretty good reason. He’d been so focused on Sam and keeping his family safe that he hadn’t spared any thought for Cas’s family. If he ended up finding something, did that mean that Cas would be leaving to pursue the lead? If he left, would he come back?

Dean pushed the unwelcome thought from his mind and cleared his throat. “I’m thinking we can leave first thing in the morning. We’ll get to Cedar Rapids mid-afternoon and start canvassing tomorrow night.”

Cas made a sound of affirmation. Dean was almost out of the room, his hand on the doorknob, when he paused. He had to say something, though. Just in case. “You know this is your home, right?” He didn’t look over, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the wooden door frame in front of him.

The sounds of Cas packing up his research materials halted abruptly. “I— Yes, Dean.” He sounded surprised, and the confusion and hesitancy in his words belied the certainty of the words themselves.

Did Cas really not know that any home Dean or Sam made included a space for Cas? It was sentimental as hell, but Dean knew that nowhere would be home to him unless Cas was there too.

He half turned, just enough to see Cas in the corner of his eye. The fallen angel was standing frozen next to the bed, a book in his hands. “I mean it,” Dean repeated, his voice rough. He had to say something, if only to wipe the look of heartbreaking astonishment off of Cas’s face. “This is your home just as much as it’s mine or Sammy’s.” He swallowed around the lump of feelings in his throat. “I’d like it if— You should stay. Here. With us.”

Cas’s expression softened and he caught Dean’s eye. “Thank you, Dean. I appreciate it.”

Dean nodded stiffly and opened the door. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

\--

Dean managed to push his uneasy truce with Cas out of his mind for the rest of the afternoon. Sam must have taken Dean seriously, because he didn’t see a peep of his brother. Charlie either, though Dean suspected that she was holed up somewhere playing an online game and abusing their bandwidth.

He watched two episodes of _Dr. Sexy_ from his bed before giving up and retreating to the kitchen. He talked best with his hands, so Dean rolled up his sleeves and started in on dinner. Sam was still sick enough to be on a mostly-liquid diet, so that meant soup. Dean wasn’t sure he’d managed to completely patch things up with Cas, though, which meant burgers, since they were Cas’s favorite food. He had plenty of time, so Dean shrugged and made both.

Just before their customary dinner time, Sam shuffled into the kitchen, Cas close behind him with his hands hovering warily around Sam. Sam was red-faced and still wouldn’t meet Dean’s eye. He raised an eyebrow at Cas over Sam’s head and just got a baffled head shake in response.

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked cautiously. “Because you can have dinner in bed, that’s cool. We’ll only judge you a little, and I think there might even be one of those old-fashioned meal trays around here somewhere.”

Sam shook his head and quickly sat down, keeping his gaze fixed on the table. “I’m okay.”

Dean exchanged another worried look with Cas but didn’t voice his concern aloud.

“Burgers are almost done,” he said instead, poking at one of them in the fry pan with a spatula. “Cas, can you get me a stack of plates?”

Charlie appeared in the doorway, skipping down the couple steps into the kitchen. “What up, b— Holy sky rockets!” she blurted, slapping one hand over her eyes and stumbling backward into the door frame.

“Charlie?” Dean turned the burner off the stove, but Cas made it to her before he did.

“Are you okay?” Cas demanded, reaching for her.

Charlie flinched when his hand brushed her elbow. Cas pulled back like he’d been scalded.

Dean had had enough of this. “All right,” he snapped. “What’s gotten into the two of you? Sam? Charlie?”

“I’ve got to be cursed,” Charlie said firmly, keeping one hand tight over her eyes and steadying herself against the wall with the other. “Or you’re cursed. Someone’s definitely cursed.”

“What do you mean? Are you okay?” Cas asked her quickly. “What are your symptoms?”

“I’m a full-on, Kinsey-scale-6 lesbian, but at the moment you two are the hottest people I’ve ever seen,” Charlie said. “And I mean, you’re not bad-looking, but I don’t usually want to climb either of you like a tree.”

“Oh, thank god,” Sam exhaled in relief. “It’s not just me.” He still wasn’t looking at them, but he seemed more relaxed now than he had been all afternoon, a tension Dean hadn’t noticed slipping from his shoulders.

“Wait. Hang on,” Dean ordered. “Go back. What?”

“I. Am. Sexually. Attracted. To. You.” Charlie enunciated clearly. “This is clearly not normal! Someone has been cursed and we need to figure it out. Now. Before I have to find out if I’m still attracted to women.”

“And Sam?” Cas asked.

“I have had a very stressful afternoon,” Sam mumbled, “and would very much like to get this straightened up before I try to go back to sleep.” He shuddered. “The subconscious is a dark place.”

“Dude!” Dean exclaimed. “Seriously?”

Charlie snapped the fingers of her free hand. “Focus,” she commanded. “Now. When did this start?”

“Early afternoon,” Sam supplied. “Everything was fine when Dean and Cas went back downstairs to get the last box. When Cas came back up, things were…” He blushed. “Different. Same with Dean the next time I saw him.”

“Right,” Dean said, not looking at Cas. “Don’t suppose either of you were up to anything in that window.”

Neither Sam nor Charlie would look at him, but they both managed to look incredulous nonetheless. Dean sighed. “C’mon, Cas. Let’s see what we can find.”

Cas trailed behind him through several hallways, the silence building between them until it was almost tangible.

Dean sighed. “Cas, you gotta know I’m worried about Sam. That’s what this whole thing is about.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas agreed matter-of-factly. “You’re always worried about Sam; I’m worried too, and I know Charlie is as well. But, Dean, we’re worried about you too. If you hadn’t— I can’t imagine— If you were hurt—” Cas faltered and Dean turned his head enough to see Cas’s expression turn distraught.

Dean wasn’t sure what else to say, so he just gave a half-nod and was relieved to find that they’d already arrived at the same storeroom they’d been emptying earlier that day.

“Look for anything out of place,” Dean instructed unnecessarily. He got a hum of acknowledgement from Cas.

The boxes that had been stacked in the room were gone, scattered across the library tables upstairs. If there _was_ a curse, whatever caused it must have been activated when he and Cas had been arguing.

“Here,” Cas said, stooping to pick something up from the ground near where they’d had their dispute.

Dean scowled. “You find a probably-cursed object and the first thing you do is touch it?”

Cas gave him a look he recognized from Sam; a regular bitchface. “If there is a curse, it’s already been activated. Holding it can hardly do any harm now.”

“Fine,” Dean snapped. “What have you got then?”

Cas held it out in his open palm. It was a gold ring with an outstretched hand curving along the band. The ring itself was flat and half the width of a normal ring, with an embossed design on one side. Cas rolled his hand to turn the ring over and Dean could see that the other side of the flat band was smooth, with a phrase engraved on it. He squinted at the writing.

“Latin,” Cas explained. “ _Whom God has joined together_.”

The words hung in the air for a moment.

“Can I just say, I don’t like the sound of that,” Dean said.

Cas frowned at the ring in his hand. “It looks…unfinished,” he said slowly. “Like something’s missing.”

A glint on the ground caught Dean’s eye. “You mean like this?” he asked, stooping to pick up another ring. This one also had an outstretched hand running along the edge, palm up this time. The smooth side of the ring likewise also had words etched into it.

Cas translated them without prompting. “ _Let no man tear asunder_.”

“Cool,” Dean said without enthusiasm. “Anything else we’re missing?”

They both looked around their feet and on the adjacent shelves, but nothing else leapt out at them. “Let’s go,” Dean sighed. “Maybe Sam and Charlie can dig something up about these rings.”

\--

They didn’t have to backtrack all the way to the kitchen. Following voices, they found Sam and Charlie in the library, pouring over books. Sam had a small stack of the Men of Letters’ ledgers in front of him, while Charlie looked to have half their spellbooks arrayed on the table in front of her.

“Hey,” Dean greeted them.

Charlie didn’t look up, but she did give them a subdued “Sup?” Sam glanced at them reflexively and then seemed to regret it, darting his eyes away quickly with a sickened expression.

“Find anything?” Sam asked, clearing his throat.

“Yep. Couple of rings,” Dean supplied, setting them both on the table between Sam and Charlie.

The pair looked relieved to have something to focus on that wasn’t Dean or Cas. Charlie snatched one quickly. “What does it say?”

“It’s in Latin,” Cas offered, providing the translations.

Sam slowly turned the other ring over in his hand. “I think I’ve read something about this kind of ring before.”

“I mean, they’re obviously gimmel rings,” Charlie said.

Dean coughed. “They’re what now?”

“Gimmel rings,” she repeated. “Paired rings. These look late medieval or renaissance.” She glanced at Dean, and then made a face and looked away.

Sam set the ring back down and pulled one of the ledgers out from the middle of the stack, flipping partway through and then starting to page more slowly through it. “There was something in here about rings…”

The ledger books were a recent find. It turned out that the Men of Letters had kept half-decent records of the artifacts squirrelled away in their collection. The hard part was figuring out which objects were which, hence the full-scale cataloging project that Sam and Charlie had embarked on.

“What are these…glimmer rings?” Dean asked in exasperation.

“Gimmel,” Charlie reiterated. “They were the original engagement ring. One person wears each half during the betrothal and then once they’re married, the halves are put together.” She seemed to be able to sense the looks she was getting without even looking up. “Yes, okay? Yes. I exchanged gimmel rings with a girl I met LARPing, it was really romantic, and then I had to fake my death and vanish without a trace.”

“Found it,” Sam said, thankfully interrupting the awkward moment. “Here’s the list of rings.” He scanned down the list. “Signet ring, signet ring, pentacle ring, _memento mori_ ring, birthstone ring, mourning ring, ring of Solomon—” He paused. “Actually, we should see if we can find that. Lore says it has anti-demonic properties. Fede ring, posie ring—”

“That’s it,” Charlie interrupted. “The fede ring. That’s another name for this kind of ring, with the two hands.”

“What’ve we got, Sammy?” Dean asked impatiently. “We gotta melt these down, or…?”

Sam cleared his throat and read aloud. “Fede ring, paired, enspelled. Appears to have been designed to induce desire between partners. Enchantment was corrupted by a jealous siren-witch ( _see Incident Report_ blah-blah-blah…). Now induces desire toward both partners when activated. Union for deactivation.”

“A jealous siren-witch?” Dean repeated incredulously. “Really?”

He glanced over at Cas, but the fallen angel just looked thoughtful. “Union for deactivation?” he clarified.

“That’s what it says,” Sam confirmed.

“Do we know what they meant by that?”

“I mean, they were designed as engagement rings,” Charlie pointed out. “In that context, ‘union’ might mean ‘marriage’, right?”

Dean felt himself go pale. “Sorry, what?”

He darted a glance at Cas, only to find the fallen angel looking back at him with an expression that was almost… _sad_? Something deeper flickered over his features before Cas turned to address the other two. “It could also mean something much simpler, couldn’t it?”

“By all means, start with simple,” Charlie said fervently. “The sooner I can look at you without wanting to void your manufacturer’s warranty, the better.”

Dean blinked at that image as Cas stepped forward to snag one ring off the table, taking the other when Charlie held it out and passing it to Dean. “Here.”

Dean was holding the same ring he’d picked up earlier, the one with the open palm up. For some reason, knowing this was an engagement ring made his heart beat a touch faster. He tried to push the thought from his mind, but when he looked up all he saw was blue, Cas’s eyes well within his personal space.

“Jesus, dude,” he muttered, and then let it go. “Okay, what are we doing?”

Cas held his ring up and Dean echoed the movement. “Just like this,” Cas murmured. His hand was warm on Dean’s where he helped guide him. The two halves slid past each other, inscriptions touching, before the hands caught. With a final push, they were snug together, one hand grasping the other on the outside of a single band. “Whom God has joined together…”

“Let no man tear asunder,” Dean finished quietly.

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before Charlie broke in. “Did it work?”

“I don’t know; you look,” Sam said. “I’ve seen Dean enough today, thank you very much.”

Charlie scoffed. “I am _not_ going to look at either of them again until I can be assured that Castiel is no longer sexy as hell.” Dean heard a smirk creep into her voice. “What do you think, Dean? Is the curse lifted? Are you _desirous_ of Cas?”

Dean scowled and looked away, feeling his cheeks heat at the direct question. “I’m feeling pretty damn normal toward Cas,” he snapped. “The same way I’ve been feeling all day. That’s not going to tell you anything about the curse.”

Sam mumbled something that might have been “pulling teeth.” “Cas,” he said louder. “What about you? Are you feeling an abnormal pull toward Dean right now?”

Dean couldn’t help glancing back. Cas hummed in contemplation. “Well, Sam, now that you mention it…” His gaze locked on Dean’s before he could look away. Indecision flitted over Cas’s face before being replaced by a sort of rueful acceptance that looked almost…regretful? “My feelings toward Dean haven’t changed all day, so I, too, am uncertain of how helpful I will be in determining whether the curse is still functioning.”

Dean couldn’t have looked away from his electric blue gaze if the Apocalypse was rebooted. It hadn’t been word for word, but Cas had just said the same thing Dean had, right? That his feelings now were the same as they had been.

Dean knew why he’d given the answer he had. He wasn’t going to admit to anything in front of Sam, but he also couldn’t bring himself to lie about his feelings in front of Cas. So he’d hedged. And then so had Cas.

But it couldn’t possibly be for the same reason. …Could it?

He heard an exaggerated sigh of relief from Charlie. “Oh, thank Hermione,” she exclaimed. “It’s over.”

As Sam made similar proclamations of joy and Charlie demanded the burgers that had been put on hold earlier that evening, Dean kept turning the exchange over in his head. He found himself sharing frequent glances with Cas and wondering what exactly the angel had meant by his words.

Was it over? For Sam and Charlie, it was, but for him and Cas, Dean had a feeling it was really just beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Gimmel ring references:
> 
> This is the general vibe of gimmel ring I had in mind:  
>   
> From [here](https://www.engagementringbible.com/what-the-hell-are-gimmel-rings/)
> 
> This website has some info on modern rings as well as a short video of a gimmel ring in action: <https://www.jewelryshoppingguide.com/gimmel-rings-guide/>
> 
> This site also has a lot of information on gimmel rings: <https://www.caratsjewellery.co.nz/betrothal-rings-a-history-of-the-wedding-ring/>
> 
> The inscription I referenced is a real one that shows up on a lot of medieval and early modern rings, including Martin Luther's wedding ring.


End file.
